


oceans, cities and chocolate kisses

by RottenKidNextDoor (PortalofWords)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, jaylos, lots of fluff, lots of jaylos too, some sad, some sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalofWords/pseuds/RottenKidNextDoor
Summary: “I wanted to see the ocean, so you made me a picnic on the cliff above the biggest ocean you could find, and kissed me until midnight.”A collection of Jaylos one-shots





	1. "You Have Chocolate On Your Lips"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :)   
> It's me!  
> I have been seriously procrastinating on Mistaken for Miracle (the next chapter IS coming, I promise). And I have a (good?) excuse: I've been doing some tumblr jaylos prompts and decided to publish them here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "You Have Chocolate On Your Lips"

Carlos didn’t like mirrors.

They were too honest.

Without them, he could lie to himself all day long.

_No, your ribs aren’t showing. No, no one can see that scar. Your bruises have faded. She didn’t leave a mark._

But his reflection told a very different story, and so, Carlos avoided it at all costs, absolutely despising the skeleton that sometimes appeared in the muddy puddles along the road or in shattered windows along the marketplace.

Even in Auradon, where people didn’t have any need to evade their appearances, he continued to duck around any mirrors he happened upon and avert his eyes up and over the glass. The mirrors in Auradon were for straightening crowns, not counting ribs and cigarette burns.

If it weren’t for his desperate, newfound love of chocolate, the plan to escape his reflection might’ve worked, too. Who would’ve guessed that dessert and a certain dark-haired thief would be his downfall?

It started their very first afternoon in the fairytale country.

“You’ve got chocolate on your lips,” came the voice.

Of course. In front of a bunch of hot guys, too, just his luck. Lifting the edge of his shirt, Carlos ferociously scrubbed at his mouth, trying to wipe away the brown mess. After a few moments, he became increasingly aware that Jay was watching him. Intently. The older boy’s dark eyes had dropped to his midsection, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the thief just licked his lips. The idea sent his stomach tumbling.

“Um, Jay?”

The smile returned to Jay’s face almost immediately, along with his usual nonchalance. “The chocolate is still there, man,” he commented. “You’re gonna need a mirror or something.”  

 _Crap_. Reluctantly, the freckled boy stood in front of the mirror on their dorm room wall. The first thing he noticed wasn’t the chocolate, of course. It was the white scars on his arms, the way his shirt clung to his cross-hatched torso, how gaunt his face had become since the last time he’d checked.

_Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic._

The next time it happened, they were eating lunch with the girls under a tree on campus.

“Did you have chocolate?” Jay was grinning at him, his tongue swiping at his own lips again, as had become custom whenever he glanced at Carlos’ mouth.

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s on your face.”

Evie passed the white-haired boy her mirror, and with a groan, his gaze fell on the dark shadows under his eyes. The physical manifestations of nightmares haunting his subconscious.

“What are you, the chocolate patrol?” Carlos muttered wryly, dabbing away at his lips.

“Something similar.” Jay just gave him another loaded smile.

It went on like that for some time, with Jay pointing out the brown smears and Carlos being compelled to find a mirror every time until finally, the ending of the story changed.  

“‘Los?”

“Let me guess.” Carlos tossed a foil wrapper into the wastebasket at the end of his bed. “I have chocolate on my lips.” Getting off the mattress, he padded over to the mirror, and yes, his lips were stained dark with the sweet stuff.

“Carlos.” This time, Jay’s voice held no joking quality. In fact, he sounded almost awed. “You didn’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“That face you always make!” Jay was walking towards him now, his eyes wide. “When you look at your scars in the mirror and critique them. You didn’t notice them right away this time, did you?”

Glancing back at his reflection, the freckled boy was stunned into silence. For the first time, he took a good look at himself. His frame had filled out, there was color in his cheeks, and there weren’t any new scars or bruises to clutter up his arms and collarbone. He still had plenty of old ones, true, and they hadn’t necessarily faded, but for some reason, they didn’t seem quite so hostile anymore. They’d been there so long that they’d begun to feel more familiar than not.  

“You knew…” Carlos breathed out. “You knew that I avoided mirrors.”

The thief nodded, still stepping closer. “‘Course, I did. And I just thought - hoped - that maybe someday… you’d look in one and see what I see when I look at you.”

“And what do you see?” The smaller boy’s voice came out breathy and high as he looked straight up into his best friend’s face.

“A gorgeous boy who is better at stealing shit than I’ll ever be because he somehow managed to steal my heart.”  

When their lips finally met, the distinct taste of chocolate danced deliciously on both of their tongues.

  



	2. Fake Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fake Dating  
> (AU)

The bar was crowded, too crowded for Carlos’ liking.

Five minutes into this night and he could barely remember why he’d agreed to come along at all.

His friends were already attempting to flirt their way into getting hot girls numbers (ah, that’s right, those idiots were the reasons he’d agreed to come along), with almost no success.

“Don’t worry, Carlos,” Ben told him, patting his arm as he headed to order another drink from one of the female bartenders. “We’ll hit a gay bar next weekend for you.”

“Ha.” The freckled boy laughed some, shaking his head. “Being single isn’t all bad, you know.”

“Maybe for you.” Ben shook his head, sighing dramatically. “I, for one, am tired of eating cold pizza in the kitchen by myself.”

Carlos watched him swagger off toward what looked like a bachelorette party and shook his head. He hadn’t been lying - there were great things about being single - but the more the freckled boy thought about it, even he had to admit the idea of a boyfriend was desirable. Someone to laugh with and hold hands with and who wouldn’t ditch you for girls at the bar? Sounded nice.

“Hey handsome.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. “You look lonely.”

A brunette girl with very blue (although rather unfocused) eyes was leaning across the bar towards him. She’d obviously had  _way_  too much to drink, and Carlos wondered why the bartenders were still dishing them out to her.

“Not lonely.” He smiled politely, moving his stool away slightly to escape the boozy breath. “Just deep in thought.”

“At a bar?” Her laugh was too loud and too high. “On a Saturday night? Come on, let loose. Toss the water, get a real drink.”

“No, thank you.” Carlos’ mind searched for a way out, for a story. The girl was so wasted, at this point she’d believe anything. “I’m the designated driver, and actually, I have - a boyfriend. He’s just - in the bathroom.”

Abruptly, the girl stopped laughing. “A boyfriend? You don’t look gay.”

“Okay.” Maybe she’d take the hint anyway and scram.

“Well… it looks like he’s ditched you,” she observed, still not making any effort to leave (or breathe in another direction). “You’ve been sitting here for awhile. Alone. I saw you.”  

“Really, I’m fine -”

“I’ll just sit here until he gets back, okay?” Blue-eyed girl was still leaning in a little too close for comfort, and he was definitely not going to be making out with some random girl at the counter.

After several more minutes of pregnant pauses and pure anxiety, Carlos’ leg had reached maximum nervous bouncing capacity. He had no boyfriend, no one was coming out of the bathroom, and he was pretty sure this girl would get tired of waiting any second now and just hold him down and kiss the shit out of him.

“You don’t really have a boyfriend, do you?” Her eyes were suddenly filled with tears. “You just wanted to get rid of me. Am I that ugly? And stupid and -”

“No, no.”  _Shit_. He could deal with giggly wasted (barely) but emotional? Get him out of there. “Alright, you called my bluff -”

“Bluff?” an unfamiliar voice laughed. “What bluff, babe?”

Whipping around in his seat, Carlos came face to face with a -

 _Gorgeous stranger,_  he thought.  _Oh, hell._

“Is this chick bothering you, sweetheart?” the gorgeous stranger grinned, his voice low and seductive.

“I’m - I’m not following -”

“Is this your boyfriend?” Drunk girl stopped sniffling and flushed red.

_A way out._

“Uh - yes!” Carlos half expected Gorgeous Stranger to deny it, but he just smiled and winked. “Yes. This is my boyfriend.”

“Sorry I was gone for so long,” Gorgeous Stranger smiled, sliding into the seat next to him. “The -”

“Bathroom!” Carlos burst out. “The bathroom line was long, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah it was,” he absorbed smoothly, and the freckled boy was impressed at how easily he’d inserted himself into this made-up story. “A nightmare, really. Want a drink?”

“I’m the designated driver.” Carlos held up his glass of tap water.  “Remember uh - baby?” He realized he didn’t know Gorgeous Stranger’s name.

“Oh that’s right,” the stranger winked. “Responsible as always.”

“I’m just… gonna go find Audrey…” The drunk girl stood up, her face still red. “See you around or…  something.”

Carlos turned to his fake-boyfriend, to thank him, to ask why the hell he’d done that, but was taken aback at the expression on his face.

“So, babe, wanna go dance?” Gorgeous Stranger was smirking, even without anyone else around.

“Uh - sure?” Were they still keeping up this charade? Why?

Gorgeous Stranger led him to the dance floor, the lights glinting off his well-muscled arms and shiny hair; Carlos couldn’t help but wonder if he was flexing. Well, if he could show off, Carlos could too. In a sudden burst of confidence, Carlos decided to dance. And not the sort of half-drunk bouncing everyone else was doing, real dancing, enough to grab the attention of the crowd around him. Even in his focused (if a bit reckless) state, he could hear a distinct wolf whistle that could only belong to one person.

Last call was at two a.m., and as the music finally dwindled and the drinks slowly stopped pouring, Carlos’ friends were texting him about leaving.

**Out front. Let’s go.**

“My friends…” Carlos sighed, looking up at his fake-boyfriend. Was this guy here alone? Did he have a ride home? “I gotta go…”

“Well, this night has been a blast, babe.” The stranger pulled the hair out of his face into a messy bun, which still somehow looked incredible. What if he never saw him again?

“Hey… why’d you say you were my boyfriend?”

The gorgeous stranger looked thoughtful, his flirtatious manner dropping for a moment. “‘Cause I know who you are. You live in my part of town, the bad part. I know who your mother is, and - this is gonna sound weird, but I’ve always admired how - you keep getting back up even when it’s hopeless.”

Carlos was at a loss for words. He’d expected something about just having fun or impulse issues or drinking or honestly anything other than what he’d just heard. “Oh… um… wow… how - how’d you know that I was even into guys?”

“Your friend, the brunette one,” Gorgeous Stanger scratched his neck. “I overheard him talking to you about the gay bar thing.”

“Oh.”  

“Hey… do…  you want my number?” Carlos really didn’t know where that courage to ask that had come from, maybe just the insanity of this whole situation, but it was completely worth it because his fake-boyfriend’s face lit up brighter than all the city lights right outside the door.

“Yeah, that’d be - really - wow -” Gorgeous Stranger took a moment to compose himself. “That would be really cool. You know, in case something happens. Rough side of town is unpredictable, you know that. Nice to have an ally.”

Phones were exchanged, numbers were inputted, and they started to leave the bar.

“See you around, I guess?” The passing cars lifted the shadows across the not-so-strange stranger’s face next to him for just a moment.

“Yeah. Text me.” Carlos watched him turn and start to walk away into the darkness. “Wait! I… I didn’t catch your name. I’m Carlos.”

The figure stopped, turning slowly, rolling the name on his tongue. “Carlos. Strong name. I like it. I’m Jay.”

Jay.

His name was Jay.

“Hey, Carlos!” Ben suddenly appeared on his left, dragging him back to the group. “Who was that guy? We saw you dancing with him.”

“Oh, nobody.” Carlos grinned to himself, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. “Just my boyfriend.”


	3. Proposal Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Proposal Misunderstanding

“Carlos Oscar de Vil?”  

Sitting at the table under the fancy lights, the freckled boy smirked. He and Jay were the ultimate con team. On the island, they’d stolen necessities, but here in Auradon? Just getting a free meal was exhilarating enough. They used all kinds of celebrations: birthdays, anniversaries, and Jay’s personal favorite -  the ever-popular wedding proposal - to garner the congratulations of restaurants all over town, and they both could vouch for the results. It seemed no one in Auradon could resist spoiling a newly “engaged” couple.

Carlos had to admit, his boyfriend looked hot as ever in his Evie-designed-and-created suit, his hair all swept back and styled as he stayed down next to the table on one knee. One thing was for sure, the thief sure played the part, and Carlos was not about to be outdone (even if doing the actual speech wasn’t his thing).

“Oh my gosh,” the freckled boy gasped loudly, covering his mouth dramatically. “Is - Jay - are you?!”

“We met under the worst circumstances,” Jay began, and Carlos secretly enjoyed seeing what extravagant, romantic monologue he always came up with for their little acts. “And now I kneel here under the very best. You’re my brain, my soft side, and about one hundred and one percent of my impulse control. You were the first person that I ever I loved, and I intend those to be the final words on my lips. Carlos, baby, will do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

By this point, they had the entire restaurant’s attention - customers and staff - and it seemed the whole place was waiting breathlessly for Carlos’ answer, which he intended to milk for all it was worth.

“Oh… Jay…” His voice was breathy and choked, and he pretended to wipe his eyes, sniffing some. “Oh, Jay…”

“So, darling?” Jay never called him darling except during these scenes. They’d both agreed it was a little too cheesy for them.

“Yes, of course!” Carlos sniffed a few more times before launching himself at Jay to capture his lips, both rolling around on the floor.

It was more than enough. They got their entire meal paid for by the wait staff and a huge cake to top it off. They’d gone so far as to pipe “congratulations” in chocolate icing.

That’s how it always went.

Pizza shops, bars, taco stands, even once at the pancake house, and still nobody had caught on.

“One of these days,” Mal would warn. “They’re all gonna find out and make you pay triple.”

They weren’t worried, nor did they have any intention of stopping. Carlos had slipped that fake ring on his finger more times than he could count, and Jay had come up with enough proposal speeches to fill a novel. Horribly, corny phrases like something out of Evie’s favorite soap operas floated around both of their brains.

Sometimes, he used his last name, like:  Carlos de Vil, your eyes are my sun, your smile is my moon, and your freckles are my stars. Will you be my husband?

Or sweet little sentiments that pulled on everyone’s heartstrings: Carlos, sweetheart, there’s only one thing I wanna do before I die: live my life by your side. Marry me?

One time he’d even gone straight to a poetry book and used a few lines: You embody inspiration and without you, I would most certainly be a different human being. I never, ever want to lose that, Carlos, so it’s with an open heart that I ask you to become my husband.  

And naturally, he liked to throw in the occasional pick-up line: You may not be a prince, but you rule my heart without a doubt. Carlos Oscar de Vil, will you marry me?

At this point, Carlos had come to expect a proposal when they went out to dinner. But regardless how fun it was to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes, even the best con teams in the world needed a night off here and there.

“Jay, I brought takeout!”

His boyfriend came out of the living room, his white tee looking just as handsome as any suit jacket in his closet. “Thanks for picking it up, ‘Los, it smells delicious.”

The thief started opening up cartons while the freckled boy brought down two plates. It was a quiet evening, the sun had already long been down, and the view from their apartment window wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, but to the boys? It was exactly what they’d wanted.

“I like the sauce on this,” Carlos commented as they sat down at table, sucking on a finger where some had dripped. “One of my favorites, actually.”

“Cool.” Jay took another sip of water, which was very unlike him. He usually started with the food, wolfing down at least two helpings before worrying about beverages.

“The girls invited us over for dinner tomorrow night,” the freckled boy continued. “I told them yes, even though that means you’re gonna need to shower fast when you get home from practice, got it?”

“Alright.” His boyfriend took another sip.

Carlos set down his fork, concerned. “You’re not even gonna fight me on that? No, ‘but ‘Los, it’s only Mal and Evie, they’ll understand’? Or ‘my muscles need it’?”

“What? Oh. No.” Jay’s leg was bouncing under the table, which was a nervous habit that more often than not happened to Carlos, not the thief.

“Shit, babe, you okay?”

In response, Jay abruptly stood up, his chair legs screeching against the linoleum. After a few tension-filled moments (Carlos swore he could hear the thief’s heartbeat from across the room), the older boy lurched forward some, slamming his knee against the leg of the table. He cursed vehemently under his breath, wincing in pain. “Fucking hell, that hurts like a bitch!”

“Woah, Jay, you good?” The freckled boy attempted to stand, but the thief waved him off.

“Stay - stay there,” he coughed out. “Hang on, hang on.”

“What - I can get ice if it’s - what are you -”

Once again, Carlos was cut off by Jay getting down on (the good) knee. He cleared his throat several times, wiping his palms on his shorts before finally getting out, “‘Los? I’ve got - got something to ask you.”

Carlos was quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter, shaking his head. “You really had me there, I thought - for a moment - I - nice try, dumbass, we both had to pay for tonight’s meal unfortunately.”

But Jay stayed down, barely joining in on the laughter. “Yeah, yeah I know. Uh… ‘Los… what if… what if I told you I wasn’t… this wasn’t for the free food? Look, I - I really - you’re the sun - ”

Not one person who met Jay would’ve ever described him as inarticulate. He was smooth, he was flirtatious, he was anything but clumsy, but tonight, each word seemed to be a struggle.  Finally, he just shook his head.

“Fuck it. Carlos, I - I tried to come up with a speech, but I guess I’ve worn out the splendor of a romantic proclamation after all these proposals. I just want to tell you I love you, and that… I’ve still got your back… and your front… and I love you … Carlos, do you wanna marry me? For real this time?”

The freckled boy was stunned, his tongue swollen into silence and his throat dry. Jay wasn’t pretending. This wasn’t fake or an act. “This… you’re really… me?…  you wanna…”

“Only if you wanna.” The thief thought for a moment. “And I know this wasn’t as fancy or as romantic as -” he was cut off by a pair of familiar lips and a soft embrace. There was no rolling, no dramatics, just a few teary eyes and gentle whispers.

“Yes,” Carlos finally breathed. “Yes, I wanna marry you.”

“I guess you’ll want this, then.” Jay brought out a velvet box from his pocket, opening it up. “It’s not fake or stolen: bought it myself.”

Carlos laughed. “The fact that you had to specify that…” He blushed as Jay slipped the ring on his finger, biting his lip. “Uh - babe - it goes on the other hand -”

“Right.” Jay’s hands were shaking (surprisingly), but from leftover anxiety or elation, it was hard to tell. “Geez, ‘Los, this went so much better in my head. This actually matters, it not just fucking around -”  

“Are you kidding?” Carlos tucked himself onto Jay’s lap, still on the floor, hugging him tight. “This was all I needed.”

“So, it’s a definite yes, right?” Jay had to make sure. “You wanna marry me?”

“Yes, dumbass.”

“Asshole.”

“Fucker.”

“Nerd.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”


	4. You’re Having a Panic Attack While I Hold You in My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You’re Having a Panic Attack While I Hold You in My Arms
> 
> Warning: description of a panic attack, skip if necessary

Times Square was a thief’s paradise. The sea of bobbing heads and whining children and chattering mobs all shuffling along, trying to convince themselves they were moving amongst the standstill that surrounded them created the perfect environment for pick-pocketing. It took all of Jay’s willpower not to let his hands slip into the open bags, and he was hyper aware of every wallet, piece of jewelry, and set of keys that lay so temptingly in the unguarded purses and pockets of tourists.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, playing with the ring on his finger to keep his hands from nicking things. “One sweep of this place, just this corner, and I’d have twelve new cars, seven apartments, and money for lunch.” He grinned down at his boyfriend, expecting to see him grin and roll his eyes, but was met instead with a very pale Carlos who seemed to be struggling for air.

 _The crowds…_ Jay realized. _Just like the ones at the dock when the barges would come in. Holy shit, we need to get him out of here._

He squinted, trying to scan the masses in search of the rest of their group. Jay could make out Ben among the swarms of people crossing the street. Evie and Mal were up there too, he realized, their brightly colored hair much harder to miss, but he wasn’t sure Carlos could make it that far.

Glancing down at the freckled boy again, Jay noticed the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead and the way his eyes darted about. Abruptly, Carlos stopped walking, his body swaying some as the people continued to move forward all around him.

“Watch it,” Jay snarled as a man with a briefcase shoved nearly bowled the white-haired boy over.

“Don’t let your friend stop in the middle of traffic.” The man shot gave them both a dirty look.

As much as Jay liked the easy targets populating the tourist-heavy areas of the city, they clogged the exit routes something awful. And right now, he really _really_ needed an exit route, more than ever.

“Jay…. I can't… can we please get out of here?”  Carlos definitely didn’t look too good, his hands twitching in a familiar pattern, his feet refusing to step on certain squares of pavement. Order, he craved order, he needed something to control.

Jay wanted to scream at the crowds to _freeze_! To just stop! And be quiet! Of course, the city didn’t take orders from a thief, even one whose boyfriend was about to have a panic attack. Sirens wailed as an ambulance sped down the street, people continued to push past them roughly, and Carlos had gone sheet white and was shaking like leaf in a hurricane.

_Shit. Shit. Everyone stop! Shit._

By the time Jay had successfully maneuvered the both of them onto one of the less populated avenues, Carlos was reduced to stumbling, pitching forward. The thief caught him, trying to figure out a Plan B. They obviously weren’t gonna make it back to their room.

“Carlos,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice calm and steady. “Do you think you can walk inside one of these hotel lobbies? They probably have couches.”

The younger boy was still trembling, his jaw locked in place, his fingers still moving desperately, as if trying to ground himself, but he was able to give a short nod.

“Just a few more steps, there you go.” Jay led him inside, both feeling the sudden blast of air conditioning, careful not to surprise him with any sudden touches. When they were seated, he helped guide the freckled boy’s head down between between his knees.

“Just keep breathing, it’s gonna pass over,” the thief told him quietly. “Can I touch your shoulder, is that okay?” After another nod, he started rubbing slow circles there, taking deep breaths to help guide Carlos’ shallow ones.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos mumbled finally, his eyes still closed.

But the older boy shook his head. “No, no, Carlos, don’t apologize. I should’ve never let us get trapped in that crowd.”

“We lost the others.”

“It’s better anyway.” Jay kept rubbing his shoulder. “We don’t have to tag along with the goody-two shoe kids all day. I bet Ben’s gonna drag them to every museum and art gallery in the city.”

That got something like a laugh out of Carlos, but he still kept his head down. “True. Poor Evie, she insisted on wearing heels today.”

“Want some water?” The older boy opened his small backpack (on which Evie had lovingly embroidered his snake crest) and brought out a water bottle, still cold from the fridge somehow.

The freckled boy took it gratefully, taking small sips and licking his parched lips. “Thanks. Aren’t you glad I reminded you to pack water?”

“Reminded?” Jay snorted indignantly. “More like nagged the living daylights out of.”

Carlos’ color had started to return and he was able to sit up again without the aid of Jay’s arms. “Wanna find someplace not quite so crowded?”

“I’d love that, whenever you’re ready.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Wow, look at that, you managed to find the one green spot in all of New York,” Carlos laughed a while later as they strolled down the street.

“Central Park, dude, it was the first thing that came to mind.” Jay shook his head as they crossed, careful not to get too close to the group in front of them. “I figured there would be some space to breathe here.”

The white-haired boy’s eyes were wide as he admired the huge statues of horses and generals that stood at the entrance of the park. And further down the block, horses that weren’t made from stone and metal were hooked up to carriages lining the side of the street, with pigeons pecking the leftover feed that had spilled from their buckets. It didn’t have the same chaotic energy as Times Square, and Carlos decided that he liked it.

“Come on!” Carlos grabbed Jay’s hand, pulling him onto the nearest path and chattering away about the statues and their history.

Jay watched fondly, listening and nodding. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“School, Jay. And reading.” The younger boy gave him a look. “If you actually did research before you came like I did -”

“Nerd,” the dark-haired boy grinned as a soft breeze brushed past them.

“Dick.”

The walk was hilly, and the path’s steep incline seemed never-ending as the boys neared the Bronx side of the park.

“Want to get on my back?” Jay offered, bending down. Carlos never turned down an opportunity to ride on Jay’s back, and he grinned.

“Maybe you’re not such a dick after all. Who would’ve thought?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jay stood up, carrying the younger boy the rest of the way. “I’m only doing this because I needed a workout. Although you’re so small I’d hardly call it work.”

“Shut up and carry me.”  

 

**x/x**

 

“I feel so small here.” Carlos gazed up at the tall buildings, his head tipped all the way back.

“You’re small everywhere,” Jay joked as they left Central Park behind.

“Again, size proximity to power is a false mentality perpetrated by -”

“Those of us that are powerful?” the older boy grinned, ruffling Carlos’ curls and laughing at his scornful expression. “It was a joke, ‘Los, you’re plenty strong.”

“I’m not carrying you, if that’s what you’re implying,” Carlos softened, walking by his side again. “I physically can’t.”

“Relax.” Jay laughed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to ride you anyway.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night!” The freckled boy launched himself at Jay, trying to put him in a headlock but only succeeded in sending them both crashing into the scaffolding lining the sidewalk.

“Jerk.”

“Idiot.” Jay waited for Carlos to shoot back with another name, but he was only met with silence. “‘Los?”

Carlos was standing in front of a window, his head tilted, staring at the display. As Jay got closer, he saw why. Mannequins draped in fur stood at awkward angles, their unnaturally thin figures faded yellow from their days on display.

“She wouldn’t wear that,” Jay said in a low voice, draping his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “It looks fake.”

“Yeah.” Carlos sounded unconvinced and he played with his fingers, his hands moving nervously against each other. “She had one that looked just like the white one, though.”

“You would know.” Jay gently rubbed the back of his boyfriend’s neck, feeling the how tense he was. “But she’s not here. And she’ll never be if I can help it.” After a moment, he carefully steered Carlos away, pressing a kiss to his temple, and the two continued walking down the street with their hands firmly intertwined.

One panic attack was more than enough for a day.

 

 


	5. "The Universe Told Me That You Were My Soulmate"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "The Universe Told Me That You Were My Soulmate"
> 
> Soulmate AU

Everyone had one.

Everyone.

It was Auradon’s most sacred piece of remaining magic, embedded so deep in their blood that no law could remove it.

“Who gives a damn,” had been Mal’s response. “Call it whatever you want, they’re just tattoos, even though no one here seems to think so. And I’ve already got a shitload of those.” That got a laugh from Jay, his own tattoos well outnumbering those of the mainland kids as well.

“Well I think it’s romantic.” Evie had read enough romance novels - trashy and classic - to recognize the difference between regular ink and a soulmate mark. “My mom would freak if she knew though - she never wanted so much as a freckle blemishing my skin.”

The marks didn’t matter much to Carlos, with their “forever” implications. At least not until he got one. Scary enough, his mark wasn’t like any of the ones he’d seen in Auradon so far, with their dainty little outlines and pretty swirls. His was heavy handed, created with broad strokes, intense and powerful. He hadn’t seen it appear either, only looked down one morning to see a terrifying and familiar cobra winding its way up his wrist.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew who it belonged to, who it represented. Deep down, he’d always sort of known he’d liked boys, but to see Jay’s sign on his wrist - it was nothing short of petrifying.

How could he tell the most gorgeous boy in his life that he’d landed the nerdy, pathetic de Vil boy as his apparent “soulmate”? How could he possibly put into words what he felt when they made eye contact or entered a room side by side to brave the world or the silent check-ins they’d do for each other?

His solution showed up in the form of an anxious teenage girl.

“I think- I think you’re my soulmate, Carlos!” Jane looked just about ready to pass out as she waved her wrist in front of his face. There were obviously some marks there, although he had no idea what they had to do with him.

“Swords,” she explained, her words tumbling over each other. “You’re from the Isle. Your mother tried to skin dogs with knives! It all makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense, it made absolutely no sense. But it was a solution nonetheless. Soon enough, foundation covered the snake on his wrist and a new mark was drawn in permanent marker, something more suitable for the fairy he was supposedly dating now.

Wings were better than a cobra, he told himself. So much better. Although exactly why, he couldn’t say. Maybe because they were what everyone expected him to have, they were normal, right? Perfect.

All of Auradon seemed to agree; they told him constantly how cute he and Jane were together.

“You guys are adorable,” Audrey would assure him daily. “You just - fit! No wonder you’re soulmates. The two little nerds.”

Funny enough, the only person who didn’t go on and on about how well they worked was Jay himself.

“Hanging in there?” He’d ask, his voice oh, so comforting and safe. Carlos wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, the truth burning under the layers of makeup on his wrist and dying to be out in the open.

“As best I can,” he’d reply with a sigh. “Every day gets a little easier.”

Carlos had almost convinced himself that there had been a mistake, that perfect, sweet Jane really was his soulmate, not Jay. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

Even without the mark, Carlos had never liked to share the locker room with the rest of the tourney team. Between his scars and insecurities, the vulnerability of being naked in front of the other guys was just a little too much. But Jay had always stayed with him, long after the others had left, and Carlos had never had a problem with it. Welcomed it, actually. But lately, he’d had to come up with excuses to send him away: forgetting Dude’s leash, his underwear, a sweatshirt, anything to get him running back to the dorm to leave the locker room empty for Carlos to redraw his new soulmark.

Today, he’d sent Jay back for a shirt he had “accidentally” left on the bed, and off the thief had sprinted.

Sitting down on the one of the benches, Carlos pulled a makeup kit out from behind his gear, complete with a marker and a picture of the very first time he’d drawn it for reference. Carlos had gotten very good at drawing his simple little mark, so much so that he almost didn’t need the picture anymore.

“Hey, ‘Los, I just remembered, I got an extra t-shirt in my locker, you can just wear - what the fuck?”

The freckled boy flinched so hard he knocked the rest of the makeup onto the floor, his mark only partially covered. His heart beat had taken over for his ears, silencing nearly everything else as he scrambled backwards, away from Jay who’d just reentered the locker room.

“T-this isn’t - it’s not what you think -”

“Really?” Jay picked up the reference image, frowning. “Because it looks like you’re drawing on that fucking soulmark. Holy shit, Jane - she’s not your soulmate is she?”

Carlos could feel himself losing control, he felt the situation slipping out of his hands. He’d retreated as far as he could, his back slamming into the cold metal lockers.

“‘Los, oh god, hey, I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Jay stayed right where he was, his voice suddenly very low. “Do you - do you have a different mark?”

“Y-yes.” Carlos’ wrist was clutched tightly behind his back.

_Don’t ask me to show it to you. Please._

“Does… it have anything to do with why this appeared last month?” Jay lifted his shirt and grabbed a makeup wipe from the bench, rubbing away at a patch. As the foundation rubbed away, he saw that a pawprint had been inked on the tan skin.

“You - that’s - your soulmark… is mine… ” Words didn’t seem to be forming coherently in Carlos’ mouth. All he knew was the mark on Jay’s torso had to belong to him. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry?” Jay shook his head. “What on earth are you sorry for? You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the world, damnit ‘Los, I thought there had been a mistake! You have mine, don’t you? My sign?”

Very slowly, Carlos brought his wrist out into the light, the cobra just as apparent as it had been from day one. He searched the thief’s face for any sign of disappointment or anger, but found none. Just something that looked a lot like happiness, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“Fuck, de Vil, I knew it was you. The universe told me that you were my soulmate.”

“No, I’m pretty sure the little mark on your skin did.” Now that the initial shock had worn off, warmth came surging back into Carlos’ veins.

“Well, the universe put the mark there, so riddle me that, smartass.”

“Yeah, yeah, do we kiss now?”

The thief snorted, his hands finally reaching out to pull Carlos in. Their kiss was long, sloppy, and long overdue.

“What’re you gonna tell Jane?” Jay mumbled finally, pulling back just enough to see Carlos’ eyes.

“The truth.” Never in his life had the freckled boy felt more secure. “That my soulmate has a dick.”

 


	6. Strawberry and Chocolate Kisses Above the Ocean

“The ocean is like us.” 

“Dark and mysterious?” 

“No. Ancient and sad.” 

The salty breeze gently tousled Carlos’ curls, his lips parted slightly as he stared out at the waves far below them. A pink glow had engulfed him, reflected from the rosy sky, as the sunset prepared for its nightly show. 

“Why is it sad?” The breeze played with Jay’s hair too, gracefully lifting it off his shoulders and into the air. “Why are we sad?” 

“It’s blue.” Carlos’ voice was faraway, off somewhere with his thoughts. “And it’s seen so many people. So many days. Good days. Bad days. Every day.” 

“And that’s us?” 

“Yes. We’ve seen good days and bad days, too. Lots of them.” 

A lone gull cried high above them, circling the miles and miles of sand stretched out beneath their cliff. The remnants of their pincic lay scattered on a checked red and white blanket, the sweetness of fruit and dark chocolate remaining luciously on their tongues to remind them of the feast. 

“Want the last strawberry?” Jay held it out, the light from the falling sun on the horizon reflected in the shiny surface. 

“I’ll taste it on your lips tonight.” Carlos almost preferred it that way, to get a double dose of sweetness with his kisses. 

“Remind me again how we ended up here?” Jay’s whole body felt  _ calm,  _ much like the soft wavelets washing steadily over the white beach below. Not a whitecap in sight on such a peaceful evening. 

“I wanted to see the ocean, so you made me a picnic on the cliff above the biggest ocean you could find, and kissed me until midnight.”

A smile turned up the corner of Jay’s mouth. “I don’t remember the kissing part.” 

“You will.” Carlos moved closer, his gaze finally drifting from the vast, shifting sea to dark, shifting eyes. “For the rest of your life.” 

“Is that so?” Jay’s voice was quiet, but not weak, the muscles rippling gently in the arm supporting his body as he lay on the grass. 

“Yes.” Carlos kept crawling closer, moving off the blanket and toward the tanned thief. “You will.” 

“And if I forget?” Jay’s other hand reached out to cup his boyfriend’s face, holding it carefully, firmly, like the whole world was sitting in his palm. 

“The ocean will remember for you.” 

Their kisses tasted of salt that night. Salt and strawberries, with just a hint of chocolate. 

And although it was their first time above the ocean, the flavor was familiar nonetheless: the ocean tasted a lot like tears. 

_ Both good and sad.  _

_ The ocean is just a million teardrops, from all the emotions in the world.  _

 


	7. "Would You Shut Up Before You Rip Your Stitches Out Again, Jay?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Would you shut up before you rip your stitches out again, Jay?"

“Almost done.” Although her cheeks were dry, there was a slight tremor in Evie’s voice. There wasn’t the slightest trace of one in her hands, though, as she pulled the needle through the last corner of flayed flesh and tied it off. It was too skillfully done for it to have been her first time. “Hold still, Jay, _holy fuck,_ I thought we’d lost you.”

“We lost enough of his blood to the streets.” The flicking lantern cast dark shadows across Mal’s face as she leant up against the corner, her arms folded, just casually enough for the others in the room to pretend she didn’t care. “Carlos, what the hell happened out there? Jay was supposed to be out of there way before you.”

The freckled boy looked up from where he sat on the floor of his treehouse, the silver of slicing knives and the red of open wounds still flashing in front of his eyes. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Uh, yes the fuck it does matter.” Mal straightened up, the flickering candlelight exaggerating her features, making her look much deadlier than the half- fae she was in daylight (even though that girl was still scary). “The plan was for me and E to provide a distraction, Jay to take down the two beefcakes guarding the stupid thing, and you to place your little bomb and cave the passage to buy him some time. You were supposed to be the last one out, and instead, neither of you show up at our rendezvous and we find you dragging a half-dead Jay down the street. Perfect plan, horrible execution.”

“Yeah, that might’ve had something to do with the hooligans with knives.” Jay was in awfully good spirits for someone who’d recently been unconscious. “You know, or the fact that you wanted us to _infiltrate the pirates’ side of the island._ And for what exactly? This? _”_ He attempted to reach for something in his pocket, wincing violently as he remembered the fresh wound in his side.

“Shit, you popped one!” Evie pushed him back, hurriedly re-stitching the wound. “Stay still, now what were you trying to get?” At his instruction, she pulled out a cracked glass jar from his jacket, studying the purple object lying at the bottom. “What is this?”

“Hand it over.” Mal was looking much more attentive. “Jay, dammit, you got it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Uh, I was a little busy?” The thief pointed to the gaping slash in his torso, which now held thirteen stitches.

“At least tell me what it is before pocketing it.” Evie tossed the vial to Mal, who snatched it out of the air.

“It’s a scale.”

“A what now?” Jay raised his eyebrows, letting his head fall back onto the makeshift medical bay on Carlos’ work table. “You’re telling me I almost _died_ for a fucking scale?”

“You almost die like every week,” Mal scoffed, turning the glass jar over. “And it’s not _a scale,_ it’s a dragon scale. My mother’s. And she’d kill me if she knew Uma got ahold of it. She keeps it -” the fairy cleared her throat, “- locked up. She keeps it locked up in the basement.”

“Then how the hell did it get out?” Jay started to sit up, but was pushed back down by an indignant Evie.

“I may have taken it out… to brag okay, to brag!” Mal turned her back on the group, scuffing her foot against the ground. “I never meant for Shrimpy’s goons to get it. Or lord it over my head, the fools.”

Carlos got up to examine Jay’s wound, dabbing at it to wipe up some blood. It was better to ignore Mal’s rare emoting moments; she was prone to snap out of it at any time. As his hand ghosted over the bare tanned skin, he and Jay made eye contact for a long moment. Slowly, Jay’s hand reached out and grasped Carlos’, staying that way, his thumb rubbing across the surface.

Shocked, Evie tapped Mal on the shoulder, jerking her head toward the boys. Suddenly, neither of them needed an explanation as to why Jay had waited for Carlos to make it out safely.

They understood now.

They understood.

“You think you could’ve avoided that fucking blade?” Carlos asked in a low voice. “Would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

Jay’s laugh cut through the still night air, causing the other three to flinch. “I liked the kiss I got after that, though. When you thought I might die. If I got stabbed by another knife, would I get another kiss?”

“You’re as stupid as you look.” But Carlos was blushing slightly. “And would you shut up before you pull your stitches out again?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the thief hummed. “More time with my shirt off?”

“Oh, you’re impossible.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“So about that shutting up?”

Jay smirked slightly. “Why don’t you come make me?”

“Do _not_ try your little pickup lines on me. I am not some chick you met at the bar.” Regardless of his words, Carlos had leaned closer, still not breaking eye contact.

“You’d be the prettiest chick at the bar,” Jay told him, purposely using his most sultry tone.

“You’d bet your damn ass I would be.”

And when they kissed, not even Mal had anything to say.

It was a loveless island, a floating prison, inhabited by demons and devils alike.

What could go wrong?

 


	8. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tipsy Carlos, caretaker Jay

“ _ Jaayyyy?”  _

The thief was only half listening, too busy attempting to navigate himself and a stumbling Carlos through the throngs of people bouncing up and down on the tourney field. 

“ _ Jayyyy?”  _

“Yeah?” 

“Nothing.” Carlos was giggling to himself, his hair sticking up in places as his feet struggling to keep up with Jay’s. “I jus’ like your name, tha’s all.” 

“Listen dude, I don’t know what you drank but it got spiked for sure,” Jay told him, making sure not to hold the smaller boy’s neck, instead steering him by the shoulders. Even tipsy, he wasn’t safe from panic attacks, and sober Carlos hated to be held in the same place Cruella liked to grip. 

“ _ Jaayy?”  _

“Yes, ‘Los?” Dammit, where were Mal and Evie? They’d disappeared into the afterparty crowd ages ago. He’d already tried calling them half a dozen times but the little shits had yet to pick up. “Bet they’re off making out somewhere,” he muttered. 

“I bet you’re good at making out.” Carlos’ eyes were half lidded as he stared up at him, his cheeks flushed. 

“Uh - yeah.” Normally, Jay would’ve taken the compliment with a smirk, but Carlos had caught him off guard. 

“Wanna prove it, handsome?” The freckled boy puckered his lips, or tried to anyway. It looked more like he was in pain than anything else. 

“We need to get you home before you pass out or something.” The thief began moving them both toward the exit. 

“Hey, Jay!” 

“Fuck,” Jay mumbled, putting on a grin. “Hey, Ben. How’s it going?”  

“Congrats!” The King was smiling widely, a real smile. And he didn’t look the slightest bit tipsy. “This was a big win! I miss playing tourney, honestly, I wish my responsibilities allowed for a little more free time if you know what I mean. You guys played awesome!” 

And the thief nodded and smiled, trying to ignore the way his fists clenched and his fingers curled. 

_ Punch him,  _ a voice urged.  _ Just punch him, move him out of the way, yell at him.  _

But no, he wouldn’t do that. Ben was nice, if oblivious. And it wasn’t his fault Carlos was drunk.

“Jay and I are gonna go make out,” Carlos suddenly announced, his voice louder than necessary, even with all the noise around them.  

“Uh - that’s - he’s wasted.” Jay felt his cheeks heating up and prayed Ben hadn’t noticed. He never blushed, why was his body deciding to betray him now?

“Wasted… like… with alcohol?” Ben looked around, his eyes widening. “Fairy Godmother checked all backpacks and water bottles. Who was able to get around the revealing spell?” 

“ _ Mal,”  _ Jay growled. 

_ “Mal.”  _

Both boys looked over to see Carlos’ face drawn in a dark scowl. He’d copied Jay’s growl, but the animosity quickly drained from his face. “Wait… why’re we mad at her?” 

“She’s stupid, ‘Los, that's why. The only person stupid enough to try shit like that.” Jay kept a firm hold on Carlos’ shoulders, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with her later,  I’m taking him back to our room.” 

The King nodded and they parted ways, Jay returning to his job as navigator. They made it back to the room with only a few speed bumps (one involving Carlos nearly crashing into a tree). 

“Alright, C, you should lie down. You’re gonna have one hell of a headache tomorrow morning.” 

“What about the making out?” Carlos’ eyes were already drooping though, and he allowed the taller boy to gently help him into bed. 

“Tomorrow,” Jay promised, hoping his cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt. “I need - to confer with sober Carlos first.” The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of him. 

The thief smiled, settling in next to Carlos as the latter dozed off. The minutes stretched into hours, and he sat, thinking. Tomorrow he’d also deal with Mal and do that homework he kept pushing back and finish that tourney evaluation and look into those “extra classes” Fairy Godmother kept telling them about. He leaned his head back against the headboard and let his eyes fall shut for just a moment - 

“Jay?” 

The dark-haired boy jerked his head up and glanced over at the clock, surprised to see how many hours had passed. It would be nearing dawn now. Carlos was awake too and  looked, well, hungover, his eyes rather bloodshot. 

“M’ gonna kill Mal,” he groaned hoarsely. “I told her I needed confidence! Why is alcohol her answer for everything?” 

“Because she’s Mal.” Jay frowned, processing. “Wait, why did you need confidence?”  

“Shittt.” Carlos held his head, cursing violently under his breath. “Oh, holy hell, my head. _ ”  _

A small smile quirked Jay’s lips. “You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up,” the smaller boy whined. “Did you mean what you said? About… making out with me?” 

The thief’s heart nearly stopped and it took a moment for him to remember how to swallow. “You - you remember that. Oh.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t completely hammered.” Carlos found it in himself to look up at Jay, grimacing some. “I expect you to make good on that offer after I stop feeling like shit.” 

And for the first time in his life, Jay was speechless. 

“What’s wrong, Jay?” The boy on the bed smirked slightly, watching his expression. “Maybe Mal should spike your drink next time.  You’re the one who needs confidence now.” 

 


	9. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Jaylos + please stay with me tonight??”

_God, I hope I die quick._

_Dying is better than this._

There weren’t enough blankets on the Isle to keep Carlos warm in the summer months, but now that the streets were iced over, he was damn near miserable. Every gust of wind hammered tiny needles into his cheeks and eyes, and Cruella’s son couldn’t feel his feet or his ears or his nose or his arms. He’d gone to the far side of the market place last night to get more of his mother’s favorite vodka but by the time he’d made it through the snow, the goblins had closed down the place for the night and then the storm had started up again and he’d been fighting his way back for what felt like days.

_A little farther, a little farther, one more step, just one more step._

He had so much work to do at home, he’d wasted so much time, he was so behind schedule, and if walking home in a blizzard was painful, trying to get his arms and legs to work quickly and efficiently while frozen to the bone was pure torture.

_Faster, please work, I need you to work, I need to get home. Mom will be back tomorrow and please, legs, move._

It wasn’t uncommon to freeze to death, and Carlos figured it might be nice to just sit down right in the middle of the street, to lay back in the snow, and just close his eyes. He could stay like that. Let the ice cover him up. And just  _rest_. But before he could allow his legs to give out, a familiar yellow sign caught his eye. Their bridge hideout. It wouldn’t be warm, but it was out of the wind up there and if he was lucky, there might be a blanket or two. So Carlos forced his feet to change direction, stumbling slightly as another gust threatened to send him on his ass. Barely able to lift his arm to throw the rock, the freckled boy missed twice before finally getting the gate to clatter up.

_One more stair, one more stair, one more stair, one more._

He kept repeating it until it was finally true and he was at last able to get out of the cold and the wet and the snow. Carlos wasn’t sure if those were frozen tears or icicles on his cheeks, he just sank down in a violently shaking huddle in the doorway.

“Who’s there?” A harsh voice cut through the silence, and if Carlos hadn’t already been trembling, he would’ve started until he realized who it was. “I’m fucking armed, tell me who you are!”

But Carlos’ lips couldn’t move and so he just sat there, shivering, waiting for Jay to find him and hoping he didn’t use whatever weapon he was threatening to.

“I’m not fucking around  -  _holy shit, Carlos, what happened?_ ” Warm arms were suddenly wrapped around his shaking body and helping him to his feet. “Alright, hey, hey, why the fuck were you out in that hellstorm? And how long?”

“S-since l-last n-night…,” Carlos croaked, his lips swollen and slow. “M-M-Mom, I w-w-was out-t of su-supplies. Sh-she c-comes b-back tomorrow… s-so m-many th-things t-t-to do.”

“Alright, that blows, I know.” Jay had busied himself wrapped Carlos in the thin blankets he’d been using a few minutes before, sitting him down on the couch. Even though it had split cushions and busted springs, it was still a couch, and Carlos felt his eyes water more. Villains weren’t supposed to show this kind of support, he knew that. He knew Jay could get into a lot of trouble it anyone found out. Even though the four of them had agreed to be an alliance, they were still  _evil_  and  _rotten_  and  _wicked_  and sure, they helped each other survive, but Jay could’ve just thrown the blankets at him and cleared out. He didn’t need to be… doing all of this.

“Dude, your lips are blue.” Jay looked concerned, feeling the freckled boy’s forehead. “You can’t catch a fever, okay, you can’t. There’s a really bad one going around, ‘Los, kids are dying. I saw them dragging that boy’s body down the street yesterday.”

Biting his healthy, pink lip, Jay sat down next to Carlos on the couch. “We gotta get you warm.”

“H-how?” Even to himself, his voice sounded pitiful. “S-so cold, J-Jay…”

All the sudden, Jay’s eyes got a wild look in them. “You trust me, right?”

Carlos just nodded, his eyes fluttering. All the sudden, something hot was pressed to his ice-cold lips and his eyes flew open and Jay was kissing him.

“Wha-” Carlos tried to pull away, but he was shivering so violently and Jay was so warm. “Ohhhh.”

Jay smiled some at the noise, kissing him, letting his hot tongue brush the icy lips of Cruella’s son. And if Carlos’ mind was frozen before, now it was melting, thawing out slowly as soft noises escaped his throat. He didn’t know what Jay was doing exactly, but he liked it.

_He’s just warming you up, this is just for warmth._

The heat spread from his lips to his groin and finally, he was able to move his legs just a bit, laying back on the couch as Jay kissed him.

_Warmth, warmth, this is all for warmth._

Carlos’ skin was tingling, heat licking in his gut. And then his mind completely puddled and he stopped the chanting, stopped thinking. Coherent thoughts didn’t return until Jay was lifting up off him and smirking softly in the growing darkness, wind still howling outside the window.

“Warm now?”

“Yeah.” It came out of Carlos as a whisper.

Jay was turning to go, grabbing his beanie off the floor and wiping his face, which now glowed with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Wait, Jay!”

The thief turned, his eyes meeting Carlos’, studying him. “Yeah?”

“Stay with me tonight. Please?”

With the faintest of nods, Jay returned, sitting beside him, Carlos curling his body into the older boy’s side.

_It’s just one night. Only one night._


	10. Dirty Jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt: just a cute-one shot about Jay's rather dirty habit :)

“Knock Knock!”

Carlos groaned. “Jay, please, I’ve got a huge test this morning -” 

“I said,  _ ‘knock fucking knock’,  _ Los! _ ”  _

Deciding it would take more time to try and dissuade his extremely unhelpful boyfriend than it would to just listen and respond to whatever recycled joke he’d come up with now, Carlos sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. Who's there?”

“Hop on,” Jay grinned, his eyes glittering excitedly. 

“Hop on who?” 

“Hop on my dick!” Jay doubled over with laughter, snorting until he was red in the face. Carlos could only stare, his mouth half open in disbelief. How could one person be so utterly  _ stupid  _ and yet so goddamn adorable at the same time? It was infuriating. 

“Jay, that might’ve been the worst joke you’ve ever told. Ever.” He shook his head. “Fuck, if I was even the slightest bit horny, the mood has been canceled. Canceled!” 

But Jay was too busy cracking up to hear or care. 

 

**x/x**

  
  
  


“I’m all fine with him giving her an extra assignment, but I think the rest of us should get the chance to do that too,” Carlos was arguing as he and Jay walked across campus to lunch. “Like, yeah, some of our grades don’t  _ need  _ it, but it’s nice to have a cushion especially if -” 

“Are you a candle?”

“Huh?” The freckled boy glanced up, disoriented at the sudden change of subject. “Why the fuck would you - oh, no, Jay, please -” 

“Cause I wanna blow you!” Jay cackled, his nose crinkling up and the laughter taking over his whole face. Carlos really did like watching Jay laugh, but he wasn’t gonna tell him that. At least not out here. 

“Pathetic.” The younger boy shook his head in mock disappointment. “Just truly sad.”  

“But hilarious.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Carlos just blinked. “Oh, Jay. You’re lucky I like you so much.” 

 

**x/x**

  
  


Carlos really liked school, always had. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t get overwhelmed like any other student. 

“Grades,” he sighed, tugging at his curls, checking those little numbers for the fifteenth time that evening. “Why the hell do they have to grade us on everything? I just wanna learn without failing.” 

“Oh, ‘Los, you’re not failing, not even close,” Jay assured him, kicking his feet up on their table. And then his face got that look, that almost wicked grin. “Wanna know how I know? 

“How?” Carlos asked distractedly, sucking on the end of his pencil. 

“Because you’re nothing like my homework,” his boyfriend smirked, watching greedily as Carlos’ mouth went to work. 

“Uh huh, why?” 

“Cause I actually wanna do you all night long.” 

“I hate you.” The white-haired boy looked up, rubbing his temples, pretending to be annoyed. “I honestly really hate you.” 

“Nah, you don’t.” Jay smiled, getting up to plant a kiss on the top of his head. “You love me.” 

“Alright, maybe I do, but not those corny jokes.” 

“They’re funny!”

“Debatable.” 

  
  


**x/x**

  
  


Jay didn’t cry in front of people. 

Vulnerable wasn’t in his vocabulary. He was shiny, he was flirty, he was confident. And yet, too many times he found himself curled up on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night with his forehead pressed against the cold tile wall, begging his lungs to just  _ breathe.  _

Nightmares were one thing he never could quite flirt away. 

“Jay.” Carlos’ voice was hoarse with sleep, but he padded over anyway, leaning his head against the doorframe. “Need anything?” 

Oxygen. That would be nice. When he didn’t answer, Jay felt Carlos come closer, sitting close but not suffocatingly so, his breaths loud and slow. 

“Follow me,” Carlos coaxed gently. “Follow my breaths, focus on me. Let this pass.”  

And Jay tried, tried forcing his lungs to break the dam until his gasps had faded into shallow inhales. Calloused, but gentle hands wiped the tears away, pressing their cool tips to his burning cheeks. 

Jay didn’t deserve Carlos. Didn’t deserve this boy. Not in the slightest. 

After a long while, Carlos broke the silence again. “Are you feeling a little down?” He sounded tentative, almost shy. 

“Just a bit.” It wasn’t worth lying about.

“Well… I can help feel you up, if you want.” 

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes fluttered shut as more tears threatened to escape. And if Jay wasn’t mistaken, a soft groan left his mouth. “That was awful.”

“Better than yours,” teased Carlos softly, his hands still pressed into Jay’s back firmly.

“I love you,” Jay mumbled, finally pressing his face into the younger boy’s neck. “I do, I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

 


	11. protect your own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Carlos protecting Jay

Very few things bothered Jay. 

At least, so it seemed. 

Carlos had seen the guy walk past boys whose girlfriends he’d hooked up with the previous evening without breaking stride. After all, he was Jay - the charmer, the sex god, the ladies man, the rugged jock. Carlos knew it, the disgruntled (and often outright livid) boys knew it, and their girlfriends - all guilty and giggling - knew it most of all. Even Jay himself appeared to hold his personality and build in high esteem, at least so it seemed to the rest of the world. 

Carlos, however, was not the rest of the world. Only he knew the reason Jay had the muscles he did, the reason why nothing at all seemed to erase that cocky smirk. Only he had seen the haunted look Jay’s eyes sometimes reflected at three a.m. when they were sitting side by side on the floor of their room. Sometimes they talked during those long, sleepless hours and sometimes they just listened to the sounds, or rather the lack of them: no pipes, no shouting, no clanging, no whistles or screams. Stars twinkled outside instead of smoggy haze. They had real beds to crawl back into when the exhaustion finally hit. A school that cared - or pretended to, teachers that taught, students that wore bright colors and brighter smiles. What did they still have to complain about? (A lot, it seemed. Perfection was a word created by those who could never imagine anything else).  

But they were fine. Jay was fine. No matter how he looked or what he said during the night, by the time the sun rose, his grin was back, and arrogance returned - like gifts bestowed by the dawn.

“Nice game today, Jay.” Chad Charming pounded Jay on the back a little too hard after their match one morning. Carlos had seen Jay turn and flip a guy to the floor for less than that faster than lightning, faster than they had time to regret sneaking up on him. But this was Auradon, and Chad was still hiding under the false cheerfulness of teammate camaraderie. 

“Thanks, man.” Jay gave him a passable nod, and only the freckled boy picked up on the way he rewound his stick grip with just a little more aggression than usual. 

“Shame number five didn’t actually break a rib. Bet you would’ve loved to have caused that,” Charming chuckled as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his perfectly smooth torso and chest. It looked rather strange when placed next to Jay’s own tanned, tattooed and scarred up abdomen. Two different lives, two different stories, and Carlos felt the hair on his arms rise as he picked up on the tone behind Chad’s words. 

_ Bet you enjoyed breaking number five’s ribs…  _

Again, Carlos held his breath, watching steadily, silently, waiting for Jay to jump in, to shut Chad down. But the older boy just let out a short, barking laugh and headed back the showers. The freckled boy felt a little disappointed that Jay had yet to put the dick in his place; after all, on the island, no one messed with Jay. And contrary to what the powers-that-be thought, Auradon hadn’t changed him, only stifled him. Tourney was an outlet for the aggression he carried, the anger woven deep into his skin and flowing red through his veins. It had kept him alive, kept him fighting, kept him standing firm when the punches came rolling in. 

“You should’ve pounded him,” Carlos murmured when he ducked into Jay’s shower stall a moment later. The same one they always used, way down at the end of the second row. 

“Nah.” Jay rested his head on Carlos’ shoulder, shrugging halfheartedly. The other boy could still feel the tension coming off Jay in waves. “He’s not worth getting benched for. It’ll only make the other things seem more aggravating.” 

“I know.” And Carlos did know. They couldn’t act out without facing the consequences here, even if they were provoked into attacking. Pitching his voice, he adopted the simpering tone of their headmistress. “Always take the high road,” he mocked. “Be the bigger person. Turn the other cheek. Bullshit.” 

At that, Jay actually laughed a little, his body thrumming with life again. “Yeah, I know. Believe me. I have to physically stop myself from breaking his ribs. And he’s right — kind of. I do like the rush of beating someone up. But only the enemy, ‘Los. Anyone who threatens you, Evie, or Mal.” 

“I know that.” He didn’t have to explain it to Carlos. Protecting your own was one of the first lessons they’d learned on the island. And maybe Jay couldn’t risk being benched, but Carlos certainly could. Secretly, he almost hoped he would. A whole week with no tourney? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. 

“I’ll be right back,” Carlos said softly grabbing a towel. “Forgot my conditioner.” 

 

x/x

 

When Jay finally shut off the water and walked back out into the rest of the locker room, he found the place in an uproar. Guys were shouting and laughing, something being passed around the group that had assembled in the center of the place. Carlos hadn’t ever returned to the shower, and now, Jay caught sight of him watching the chaos from an inconspicuous corner with a smug little smile. 

“Dude!” one of the other guys on the team cried, grabbing Jay’s arm and shoving something in his direction. “Look at these. Just look!” 

Glancing at the photos, Jay couldn’t help snorting. Chad Charming apparently had a little too much free time when it came to nude photography… of himself. “Holy shit.” 

“His dick is the size of a string bean!” the other boy hooted, snatching the photos back and passing them to the next guy. 

Jay laughed again and saw that Chad was now following the progression of the pictures around the circle, his face flushed. 

“Those aren’t real!” he kept shouting helplessly. “I don’t know where those came from! That’s not what I look like! Those must have been photoshopped! Why would I have taken those? I’m not that small!” 

While his protests fell on deaf ears among the rest of the team, something about them struck a chord in Jay. The room only contained one person who knew photoshop well enough to create something like that in such a short amount of time. His eyes found Carlos again, still leaning against the wall looking very pleased with himself.

“I was in the shower!” Chad hollered. “One of you guys slipped them into my locker while I was gone! I know it!” 

Finally, Jay maneuvered himself around their teammates and stood next to Carlos by the wall, lowering his voice. “How the hell, de Vil?” 

“He deserved it,” Carlos grinned. “Come on. He’s been a dick to you for weeks. I figured it was time someone dropped him down a peg or two.” 

“Or seven,” Jay chuckled watching Charming’s face get redder by the second as the photos circulated. “That was one tiny dick you put on him.” 

“I know.” Carlos smiled up at him, his eyes flashing with pride. “I kind of got carried away.” 

“Think he knows who did it?” Jay asked, still enjoying Chad’s beet red blush. It felt good to see him mocked and tormented for once. 

After another few seconds, the prince looked past the roaring crowd and made eye contact with Carlos, his eyes narrowing. The younger boy simply smiled back cooly.

His message was crystal clear:  _ don’t fuck with what’s mine.  _


	12. Curious Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Idk if u would like but some Isle Jaylos where Carlos visits Jafar’s junk shop to get items as ordered by Cruella and Jay helps him find stock before kinda realizing Carlos is kinda cute and so much more than the scared boy he usually sees when he’s with Mal

Jay was fascinated. 

And for the first time in a long, long while, a person - not an object - had caught his attention.

“Back here, we’ve got a few cigarette holders,” he heard himself rattling off nonchalantly, gesturing to a few chipped and old-fashioned-looking pieces clustered together at the end of a row. He didn’t miss the way the customer stared at the long, slender holders, his eyes giving away just how much he wanted one. Jay knew that if his dad were the one making the sale, he’d pounce right about now, use that desperation and turn it into gold. 

“How much?” The customer reached out a hand toward the cigarette holders as if scared he might break them. 

“Well, we’ve had quite a few people come to look at them,” Jay said in his smoothest, most persuasive voice. His eyes roamed over the customer’s white curls and freckles, wondering how something so - pretty? - had somehow blossomed among the shit and riff-raff that usually sidled through the door. “But for you, gorgeous,” he grinned. “They're half off.” 

Jay had used the “half-off for looks” gag a billion times -from the rattiest witch to the most pompous stepsister. It usually worked like a charm, getting them all flustered and blushing. Uninhibited customers were the best kinds of customers. This time, however, the freckled boy looked mostly annoyed. 

“Okay, thanks, I guess.” He finally took one and slipped it in his wicker basket. 

“Little Red Riding Hood lend you that?” Jay smirked, eyeing the dainty little handle. 

“My mother.” The other boy turned his back on Jay and began scouring another shelf, his eyes darting down to the list he still had clutched in his other hand. “Would you guys happen to sell alcohol? I’d rather not make another stop.” 

“You trying to get me drunk?” For some reason, the more this guy ignored his advances, the harder Jay wanted to try. “It’s called a junk shop, not a liquor parlor, sweetheart.” 

“Thought so.” The white-haired boy bit his lip for a moment, shrugging. “It’s fine. I’ll stop at Ursula’s on the way home. She’s usually got some fermented something or other to distill.” 

“Ursula’s?” Jay dropped the silky purr and straightened up. “Dude, that area is bad news. That’s pirate turf.” 

“Please,” the freckled boy snorted. “I see you over there all the time.” 

“You do?” Had this guy really noticed him? Maybe even watched for him? 

“Aren’t you gonna make some corny comment about me following or watching out for you?” the kid asked wryly, turning back to the shelf. “Well, I can get light bulbs here, at least. Where do you have those? And she specifically told me to tell Jafar that if they’re cracked, she’s coming down here and smashing them on his head. Or something like that.” 

“Harsh.” Jay pointed him toward a rack of lightbulbs. He had sorted them himself, so he knew that most of this batch hadn’t been cracked, but the freckled boy still picked up and each one and examined it scrutinizingly. 

“This one won’t work,” the other boy announced finally. 

“It’s not cracked!” Jay wasn’t supposed to let customers examine the goods for too long. It drove down sales since practically everything in the shop was, well, junk. And this kid hadn’t been studying it for too long, except that he’d just declared a perfectly good lightbulb as unusable! 

“It’s burned out.” The freckled boy held out the bulb, pointing to the strange little hair-like wires inside. “See? The filament has oxidized.” 

“So?” 

The boy huffed impatiently. “It won’t work. It’s broken now. It got too brittle. That’s how light bulbs work.” 

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”  Jay took the bulb and placed it back on the rack. “Pick another one then.” He watched with reluctant curiosity as this kid checked and carefully selected several light bulbs. “So, you've seen me around, then?” 

“Who hasn't?” the boy snorted. “You're Jay. Rumors get around.” 

“What kind of rumors?” Jay couldn't help grinning a little. He knew exactly what people said about him, and most of it was true. 

“That you're dishonest,” the freckled boy said as he kept walking. “And cocky. And that you're always looking for a good lay.” 

“And you're not scared of me?” Jay followed behind him, cursing his own interest in this guy. 

“There are a lot of things to be scared of here,” the boy shrugged, picking up a few other trinkets and turning them over. “If I named them all, we’d be here all day and into tomorrow.” 

Jay watched him for a moment, trying to figure out who he was, exactly. He’d seen him somewhere for sure, maybe around the halls at school? The kid was definitely in one of his classes. “de Vil!” Jay smiled suddenly, snapping his finger. “That’s who you are! You’re the de Vil boy!” 

“Mmm,” was all the kid hummed in response. 

“So Cruella sent you to get all this?” 

At the sound of his mother’s name, the de Vil boy stiffened. “Yes. She did.” Abruptly, he stopped walking and stared a shelf of broken down radios and batteries and wires. “How much does that stuff go for?” 

Jay stared at the technological mess and shrugged. “Pretty high. Those are some of our best selling objects.” 

“Ah.” 

“So, what should a guy like me call a pretty boy like you?” Jay said, trying to ignore the resignation splattered across the other boy’s face like his freckles. He didn’t know what someone wanted with those broken down electronic bits, but then again, he could never get them to work. “Hey, why do you want those things anyway?” 

“I’m making… something.” The boy shook his head, shrugging a bit. “I need a couple of parts. Nevermind, though. Just ring me up for this stuff, and I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“What kind of parts do you need?” Jay asked, walking over to the shelf. “I can’t give them to you for free. But maybe we can work out a deal or something.” 

The de Vil boy eyed him suspiciously. “I’m not giving you sex.” 

It was a fair assumption, but for once, that hadn’t been Jay’s intention. “Not sex. But maybe you owe me something. A favor.” 

“I don’t like owing people.” The other boy glanced at the parts again, biting his lip. He clearly couldn’t have hidden his longing even if he tried. “What kind of favor did you have in mind?” 

Plenty of people had been indebted to Jay before. And if it wasn’t sexual, his tasks were dangerous or tedious - which meant he had no idea what he wanted this boy to do for him. To buy himself some time, he said, “you know, Mal and I have seen you around school.” 

“I know.” 

Jay supposed that the two of them prowling the hallways made a pretty big impression on everyone else. “You usually seem… different.”

“Pathetic? Useless?” The de Vil boy shook his head. “At school, everyone has their role to play. You guys are the Big Bad’s, and I’m the timid weakling.” 

“Sit with us on Monday.” The words tumbled out into the air before Jay's brain had time to register what he was doing. 

“ _ What _ ?” 

Jay blew some dust off of a cracked teapot and licked his lips. “Sit with Mal and me on Monday. That’s what I want from you.”

The other boy stared at Jay like he’d grown a second head. “You’re out of your mind.” 

“No deal, then?” It was just as well. Jay didn’t know how Mal would react if the kid decided to take him up on the offer. 

“Is sex back on the table?” The boy looked conflicted for a moment. Somewhere in the distance, a cracked and ominous bell struck seven times. “I need to go.” In a split second, the boy had grabbed several odds and ends from the technology shelf and placed them in his basket. “Ring me up before I change my mind.” 

After the money exchanged hands and the boys prepared to part ways, Jay leaned against the entrance way and watched the de Vil boy walk away. 

“I’ll be expecting you on Monday,” Jay reminded, wondering if the kid would just ignore him. “Did you hear me de Vil?” 

Right before he turned the corner, the other boy glanced back at him for half a second, his eyes catching the last glints of evening light. 

_ Carlos _ , a voice somewhere in the back of his mind whispered.  _ Carlos _ . 

“Carlos!” That was the kid’s name! “We’ve got your back!” 

And Jay could’ve sworn that he’d seen the son of Cruella smile. 

  
  



End file.
